Someone Like You
by Aphelionite
Summary: Andy drops Sharon home after The Nutcracker... Series of "missing scenes".
1. Someone Like You

_Disclaimer: Disclaimed!_

_AN: Yes, I've since learned that there are no cameras in Sharon's building but I like Sharon's thoughts regarding them so I'm leaving them in anyway, lol. _

* * *

**Someone Like You**

Lt. Flynn pulled into a space a short walk from Captain Raydor's building and cut the engine with more than a little trepidation. She was going to bring it up, he knew it, it was too much to hope that she would just quietly go along with it all. He hadn't expected her to be quite so blunt about it though.

'Does Nicole think we're dating?'

'What? No!' he lied, a knee-jerk reaction when he knew it was futile: he'd trodden on her attempts to correct the impression too many times tonight for his denials to be believable.

'Andy,' she coaxed quietly. 'Why would you let them think that?'

He fiddled with his keys, not quite meeting her eye. The seconds ticked by but Sharon was not going to be the one to break the silence.

'I guess I just thought, you know,' he met her gaze and quickly glanced away again, embarrassed, 'if they thought someone like you would look twice at me maybe - maybe there'd be some hope for me after all. I was a lousy father and a worse husband, I know that. I still got a lot to make up for. I just want the chance, you know?' He stared at the steering-wheel so disconsolately that Sharon couldn't help slipping off her seatbelt and caressing his arm in an attempt to comfort him.

'You'll get it. You will,' she assured him when he gave an unconvinced shrug. 'It takes a lot of courage to admit your mistakes and try to start over,' she thought of Jack and how he lacked this particular brand of bravery. 'I admire it.' She smiled a little when he looked at her, surprised that he could win any sort of admiration from her. 'But-' His gaze dropped again, this time reminding her of Rusty. She suppressed a laugh. How was it that a man like Andy Flynn, a homicide detective, ex-addict and father, someone with so much life experience, could so often put her in mind of a teenage boy? 'But,' she said again, pressing his forearm in emphasis, 'it takes a lot longer to rebuild trust than it does to break it. You just have to be patient. Eventually they'll see you for who you are now, someone who wants to be the best father he can. Just don't give up. As long as you're in their lives in any way there's hope.'

'I guess so,' he shrugged, looking marginally reassured. 'It's just, it's easier when you're there. People actually talk to me,' he tried to laugh but she could see how much it hurt him to be a part of his daughter's life and still somehow separate.

Having Sharon accompany him to Nicole's wedding had been a revelation to Andy. For the first time since he'd gotten sober, he'd actually enjoyed a family gathering and his many in-laws had not completely disdained his presence. It seemed so effortless for his captain, making small-talk, winning smiles with her thoughtful questions about everyone's kids and waxing eloquent about her own. People could _tell _what kind of a person she was, what a good mother she was, and he was made whiter in her reflected glow.

'I don't mind being your buffer, I'm happy to help, but they're gonna find out eventually, and the longer you leave it the harder it's gonna be,' she told him matter-of-factly.

Flynn found himself wondering why it shouldn't be the truth. It wasn't just other people's perceptions of him and Sharon that had made these last two occasions so successful, _he _was different when she was around, lighter, more inclined to smile than scowl. It was funny, he'd never noticed how hot she was when she was running Internal Affairs…

'Well, thank you for dinner,' she smiled, fishing her handbag out of the foot-well.

'Least I could do,' he said easily. 'It wasn't a bad night, was it? For the ballet…'

She laughed. 'Not bad at all. I guess I'll see you next week.'

'From your lips…' he sent up to the heavens. If his shopping trip with Provenza went awry tomorrow, which he already suspected it would, he'd need the rest of the squads' week off to find the twins decent Christmas presents. He was still hoping for an invite to Christmas dinner with his daughter and there was no way he could turn up empty handed.

She leaned over to peck him on the cheek, her intent no more than a friendly goodnight, but her intent quickly turned to surprise when her lips landed squarely on his. Having successfully accomplished the kiss on the cheek manoeuvre countless times in her life, Sharon was pretty sure the error had not been on her end. And yet she had not jerked back, her hand remained on his bicep, her eyes had drifted closed of their own volition and she was not hating the soft pressure of his mouth on hers, nor the glide of his hand from her elbow to her shoulder.

She heard his seat creak and felt the feather-light caress of his fingers on her neck and jaw before the shiver down her spine finally brought her to her senses and she pulled back. Andy didn't look as surprised as she felt. Perhaps she shouldn't be so stunned but she was so used to her colleagues detesting her…

She swallowed, floundering for something to say in the face of his obvious question. 'I…' she stammered. 'I should get back to Rusty. I'll, uh, I'll see you at work.' She opened the door and slipped out into the night, tripping two paces before turning back and stooping to say an awkward 'Goodnight' through the open passenger window.

By the time Flynn raised a hand in farewell, she was already fast receding in his wing-mirror. 'Stupid,' he muttered to himself, starting the engine. Of course she wouldn't be interested in him…

Sharon pushed the button for the lift with visions of Rusty's protection detail sitting open-mouthed in front of the security screens. Okay, so she knew that the building's cameras didn't extend far enough up the street for them to have really seen anything but she couldn't shake the feeling of exposure that warmed her chest and neck as the lift doors slid open and she clacked inside, hitting the button for the top floor.

She resisted the urge to slump against the wall, knowing the security cameras most certainly could see her now and, in her paranoia, not wanting to give anyone watching further fodder for speculation. In other words, she did not intend to return to work to rumours of her swooning after a date with Andy Flynn where they may or may not have kissed.

She was glad to reach the relative privacy of her condo. Rusty was encamped on the sofa with a mostly empty bowl of popcorn on the cushion beside him. He glanced guiltily at the can of coke on the coffee table but said, 'You're home early.'

'Ah, well, the ballerinas needed their sleep,' she said, slipping her heels off with a sigh. 'It was an exciting night for them.' She knew the last thing Rusty wanted to hear about was a ballet recital and if she threatened to gush about it she would get away to her bedroom all the quicker. 'You should have seen-'

'Uh, Sharon?' he said, and she smiled at the predicted excuse for him to turn his attention back to the TV, knowing he wasn't as invested in the film as he was trying to make out.

'Oh sure. I'll tell you all about it tomorrow,' she promised with a devious smile. 'I'm gonna go change.' Rusty simply raised a hand in acknowledgement, eyes glued to the onscreen explosions.

It wasn't until she was safely ensconced in her room, slipping out of her slinky black evening dress, that she allowed herself to examine how she felt about Flynn making a pass at her. Her eyes caught her reflection in the full length mirror and she wondered if Andy would have found her as attractive had he suspicions of the cunning underwear that smoothed her curves and let her wear the kind of dress she wished she'd had the guts to wear in her thirties, when her figure hadn't needed quite so much structural support.

Of course it occurred to her that he might not really be attracted to her at all, that it was the bridge she provided that he coveted. She didn't think that was the case, but maybe that had more to do with her own feelings than his. She'd be lying if she said she hadn't found his unexpected support utterly disarming at times, or didn't melt a little when he blessed her with one of his rare, uncensored, almost bashful smiles. Not that they had been rare tonight, she mused, removing her jewellery, either at dinner or the show. And she'd been truthful when she said she admired the effort he was making with his daughter which, right or wrong, added another layer to his attractiveness for her. She had to ask herself how much that had to do with Jack and her hopes for his relationship with their children. Probably a lot but it factored in Andy's favour none-the-less.

And so, if she admitted she had a soft spot for the cynical detective and allowed herself to believe his interest was genuine, how _did _she feel about him kissing her..?

Torn for a start. She was in the best shape she'd ever been in career-wise, she finally had a position that earned her the respect rather than resentment of her colleagues, and that was not something she wanted to jeopardise. Getting into a serious relationship with a member of her own team ran the risk of wrecking the effectiveness of said team should the relationship not work out.

But she was getting ahead of herself; could she even see herself in a relationship with him? The short answer was yes, yes she could. There had been a moment there in the car, before they'd kissed, when his words had made her stomach flutter.

_ …if they thought someone like you would look twice at me maybe there'd be some hope for me after all…_

_ Someone like you…_

She suddenly found herself questioning what he'd meant by that. At the time she'd taken it as a compliment, especially with the self-conscious way he'd said it, but what if he'd meant something else? What if he'd only meant to call her a goody-two-shoes? No, she told herself. Though she wouldn't put it past him, it was the _way _he'd said it that had flipped her stomach and she trusted her gut. It felt rejuvenating to be regarded in such a way and it had been a good long while since anyone had shown this kind of interest in her.

But she was cautious by nature, not likely to jump in without thinking through the possible consequences, and this thing had crept up on her so suddenly that she hadn't had time to consider them properly yet. She found she was even more glad that the squad was taking a week off in the run up to Christmas and hoped that she would know her own mind better when she next saw him.

* * *

_AN: Not my best work but hopefully an enjoyable read. I thought I might as well share it as not - you tell me ;)_


	2. The Light of Day

_Disclaimer: Still disclaimed._

_AN: Set during 2.15 "Curve Ball"_

* * *

**The Light of Day**

This was not how Sharon had envisioned her pre-Christmas vacation going. It wasn't like she hadn't suspected that it might not last the week they'd been promised but it hadn't even been twenty-four hours before her phone started ringing. And it had continued ringing since she'd been in the back of a seldom opened cupboard getting overfriendly with a pile of prehensile tinsel and fairy-lights. Rusty had finally brought her phone in only to find her on the floor trying to disentangle her ankle from the Christmas decorations and muttering words he hadn't even thought she _knew_.

'Do you need back-up?' he'd asked, not troubling to smother his grin.

She'd stopped short of making a joke about the difficulties of coming out of the closet, sighing when he showed her the caller ID.

'This had better be good, Lieutenant.'

Fortunately, with the team already processing the scene, she'd had time to clean herself up and change and still made it to the station ahead of the others to be briefed. She was in the break-room, just dropping her teabag into the bin, when Andy Flynn came in, tripping over his own feet at the unexpected sight of her.

She wasn't quite sure what to say herself after their romantic interlude the night before, despite lying awake into the small hours trying to figure out how she felt about him. Now was not the time to continue her ruminations however; now was the time to focus on work, she chided herself.

Andy managed to get his feet, and mouth, working again. 'Coffee duty,' he shrugged guiltily, trying to smile as he busied himself with the coffee-pot, no doubt in the dog-house with the rest of the squad after ruining their plans and wondering if she was about to condemn him too. 'Hope you weren't in the middle of something.'

'Nothing that can't wait,' she said evenly, almost shoulder to shoulder with him as she stirred her tea; after all, he _had_ done the right thing - he just had abominable timing. 'What?' she asked, looking up to find him smiling at her. Suddenly she was afraid he was going to say something about last night and was sorry she'd asked the question.

He pulled the handkerchief from his breast-pocket. 'You've got a little schmutz…' he murmured, gently dabbing her jaw.

Sharon swallowed, stepping back uncomfortably and taking the handkerchief, trying not to brush his hand.

'Probably dust, I was pulling out some old boxes - gone?' she asked, having vigorously rubbed the area, trying to scrub away the pleasurable but distracting sensations he had evoked as well as the dirt. He nodded.

He got it. God knew he was no catch and probably so did Sharon; she'd read his file, hell she'd probably _written _half of it. He didn't delude himself that the badge he carried fooled her into thinking he was a good person and he knew better than anyone that even when he tried to do the right thing it usually had a way of backfiring. Like today. When he'd asked himself what Sharon would want him to do the answer hadn't exactly been 'ruin her vacation'… He should just count himself lucky that she was willing to help him out with Nicole and leave it at that, less chance of her ending up an accidental victim of his monumental bad luck that way.

'I'll see you in there,' she said, handing him back the handkerchief and heading for the door.

'Uh, Sharon?' He knew he probably wouldn't get another chance to speak to her alone for a while. She paused for a split-second before turning back to face him, braced. 'About last night -'

She raised a hand, 'Andy, I don't think -'

'Listen,' he said, stepping closer, dropping his voice to a more intimate volume, 'I just wanna say that we should forget about it.' He shrugged casually, trying to act as if it didn't bother him. 'I mean, you're a married woman, after all. And we work together.'

He thought she looked relieved as she nodded, 'I completely agree.'

But she realised as she said it that she was disappointed. While she hadn't been ready to make a decision yet there was a reason she had been considering it in the first place. True, he had a chequered history, there was no getting around it, but he'd changed since his transfer to Major Crimes, his file reflected that too. Surrounded by a team who had his back had brought out his own loyalty; caring about how his actions reflected on his colleagues had made him a better officer and, since taking over Major Crimes, Sharon had experienced this camaraderie first-hand. Outside of the job, she cared less about his past problems than she did about his current efforts to remedy them; maybe all he needed was for someone to believe in him.

And maybe this time she'd found someone who would support her too. Or at least, she'd thought she'd found him. Unfortunately he had already thought better of making a move on her, a record rejection time for her, a new all-time low. It wasn't like he hadn't known she was his married co-worker last night...

Maybe it was for the best, she consoled herself. It simplified things at least. But she couldn't deny the pang she felt as he smiled and said, 'Great. So we're okay?'

She attempted to smile back, not sure how well she was succeeding as she said, 'Of course.'

Provenza banged into the room a moment later, looking at them both entirely too suspiciously for Sharon's liking. '_Some_ of us would like to solve this case before Christmas,' he barked, gesturing for the Captain to precede him from the break-room and shooting Flynn a murderous look. 'Hurry up with those coffees!'

* * *

_AN: Sorry it's so short, I'm just writing my own scenes into the show really (cuz I'm lazy and can't be bothered to write a coherent story lol) so updates will probably be dependent on how much Shandy inspires me in the series ;) They've only just aired the first episode of season three here in the UK so no spoilers please if you're lovely enough to review :P Thanks for reading x_


	3. While the Brat's Away

AN: Set between episodes 2.18 &amp; 19\. Sorry, the working title stuck, lol.

* * *

_**While the Brat's Away…**_

It was too quiet. No matter how much Sharon tried to fill the apartment with noise, she couldn't fill the void that was Rusty's absence. While she knew that his change of address was for his own good and he was only a few miles away, she couldn't help feeling that she - and her sidearm - should be right there with him and it filled her with a restlessness that wouldn't let her sit still for more than two minutes together. She was pacing barefoot, reading the FBI report on the letters for the millionth time, when she heard voices out in the hallway. She paused, eyeing her gun on the side table, waiting to hear if it was a neighbour exchanging niceties with the officers assigned to watch over her until Stroh's preliminary hearing next week. No jangling of keys or unlocking of doors could be heard though, just the indistinct murmur of voices going on far too long for Sharon's liking.

She silently sidled up to the peep-hole, swapping the file for the cold, reassuring weight of her weapon en route, rolling her eyes and yanking open the door when she realised who it was. 'Lieutenant Flynn.'

The on-duty officers jumped to attention, one of them whipping his hand out of a paper bag the lieutenant was holding as if he'd been burnt: they knew as well as she did that they weren't much use as guards if they were more interested in their stomachs than their surroundings.

'News?' she asked, foregoing the verbal reprimand, this time.

'Oh, uh, no, I, uh,' he glanced towards the officers uncomfortably, lowering his voice a little though their proximity made the effort pointless. 'I thought you could … use some company, maybe.'

She looked at the officers who quickly busied themselves with checking the corridor. 'They still haven't found a ballistics match?' she asked, not really expecting an answer but keen not to give the officers any ideas as she stepped back to let Andy in and re-engaged the safety on her gun.

'Nothing in California. Tau's checking out of state but,' he shrugged helplessly, depositing his bags on the dining table.

'It could take days,' she finished for him with a sigh of frustration. Their guy was too smart to use a traceable weapon. His fingerprints and DNA were their most likely bet, any links to other crimes could give them invaluable clues to his identity, but checking with the various agencies nationwide would take even longer than matching the bullets. The hearing was in four days.

'Listen, they'll call if there's any news,' he reminded her. 'Why don't you try to take your mind off it for a while?'

Sharon snorted bitterly, pulling out one of the chairs and dropping into it, rubbing her face. If only she _could _stop the incessant cycle of unhappier endings going through her head. 'He nearly killed him, Andy. He was _this _close…' she shook her head. It could all have ended so differently…

Flynn sat, too, squeezing her hand. 'It wasn't your fault, the kid didn't follow orders.'

'I should never have let him participate in the first place,' she argued firmly, clearly not about to be swayed from blaming herself.

Andy sighed, stuck for something comforting to say. 'Have you eaten?' he asked instead, starting to pull containers out of the bags. 'I stopped at Luigi's on the way.'

She'd cooked herself dinner but as for consuming it, the moment she'd started eating she found she was no longer hungry - but at least washing up after had killed ten minutes. 'Ah-ah!' she chided, instantly distracted despite herself as Andy began to pull the lid off a tomato-based dish, fearing for her white tablecloth. 'Here,' she picked up the nearest tubs, carrying them over to the kitchen counter and pulling out crockery and cutlery.

'Aren't you having any? I think I brought enough for four.'

The smell _was _making her mouth water a little… 'Maybe just a little of the carbonara,' she relented, grabbing another plate and fork.

'Yes, ma'am.'

She couldn't help but be comforted by his presence. It had been weeks since their little indiscretion in his car and his subsequent rejection of her, and the sting had faded enough for her to still be able to appreciate what a supportive friend she had in him. She supposed that was the last remaining thorn of regret that pricked at her when they were together like this, knowing that they could have been good for each other, given the chance.

They talked about the kids for a while, a topic no proud parent could ever exhaust, until Sharon's phone beeped and she pounced on it with an eagerness that might have been insulting at any other time. The tension drained from her shoulders when she saw who it was. 'Rusty,' she said, smiling fondly at the text message. '"Please feed me something green when I get home."'

Andy laughed. 'And it's only been one day.'

'I think I'll be needing something green myself after this,' she said, indicating their empty plates as she tapped out a reply to her foster-son.

'Don't start the diet just yet,' he said, pulling dessert out of the bag with a flourish. 'Tiramisu.'

'I couldn't,' she declined, patting her belly in emphasis.

'Keep it for later,' he suggested; he'd gotten it for her anyway, knowing how much she liked it. Besides, sugar had always worked on Chief Johnson's mood.

She smiled, and he wondered how the butterflies had room to flutter in his stomach with the amount of Italian he'd just consumed. How was it that with one smile she made him feel worthwhile? As if, perhaps, the best years of his love life were not behind him. Not for the first time, he regretted being so quick to dismiss what had happened between them and sometimes he could almost swear she did too. Or was he imagining the 'what if' in her eyes? Did he like the idea of being with her so much that he saw what he wanted to see? The thought kept him from making another rash move.

There was another problem of course, one he only considered because he knew Sharon would, as attached to the rules as she was. Department policy dictated that dating officers were required to inform their superiors of such, which in this case would be Chief Taylor. He didn't relish the thought, although Taylor had been considerably less of a pain in the ass since becoming Assistant Chief (and the boss of everyone) so he probably wouldn't use it to make trouble. Would 'probably' be good enough for Sharon though? And would Flynn be prepared for reassignment if a time came when Taylor decided to use their relationship as leverage to get his own way and Sharon refused to compromise her integrity?

The longer he thought about it the more confused he became about what to do, even if he was getting more and more sure of his feelings for Sharon. He just wished he knew what she was thinking…

'I'd better get these plates in the dishwasher,' she sighed, suddenly feeling every bit as tired as she should be given how little sleep she'd gotten the night before.

'I've got it,' he said, rising, but she laughed.

'It took Rusty a week to learn how to stack it right.'

'Fine, I'll rinse, you stack,' he amended, hanging his jacket on the back of the chair and rolling up his shirt-sleeves.

That was another thing she liked about him; he knew a man could do dishes as well as a woman could solve murders. She couldn't remember Jack ever washing so much as a teaspoon. She couldn't help comparisons to Jack at times like these, remembering how completely and utterly lonely it had been trying to manage two young children, a home and a career with him as a husband. It was a sad commentary on her marriage just how much seeing Andy roll up his sleeves and pitch in melted her heart.

Why did he do that though? If he wasn't interested then why was he so sweet to her? And why was it that his being so sweet without expecting anything romantic in return made him all the more desirable? There was that thorn again, threatening to burst her bubble of platonic contentment.

'I guess it's late,' said Andy, as she closed the dishwasher on the evidence of a sinful dinner, hiding an irresistible yawn behind her hand.

'Thank you for the company,' she said genuinely.

'Anytime,' he nodded and the look he gave her produced not so much a prick as a stab of longing. In that moment, if he'd tried kissing her again he might have ended up staying the night. He didn't though, he just put her dessert in the fridge and got his jacket on. She walked him to the door.

'Can I give you some money for dinner?' she asked, reaching for her purse.

He held up a hand to stop her. 'You can get the next one. When all this is over,' he said meaningfully. 'Which it will be soon,' he reminded her.

She smiled a little, but could feel the knot of worry returning with Andy's departure. 'Not soon enough.'

He squeezed her shoulder. 'We're not gonna let anything happen to him.'

She shook her head as if trying to shake away the intrusive thoughts. 'I know,' she said. She did. This maniac would get to Rusty over everyone's dead bodies.

It seemed another eternal moment before Andy said, 'I'll see you in the morning then,' his hand sliding the length of her arm to briefly press her fingers. For a second she didn't let go, though whether in gratitude, friendship or something more she wasn't sure.

'Goodnight,' she said, suddenly incapable of thinking of anything else to say. She just hoped she wasn't blushing noticeably as she released him to unlock and open the door.

He smiled softly as he passed, touching her arm again. 'Night.'

* * *

AN: Just watched episode 3.06 so I'm super excited (_you_ try making a cup of tea when you can't stop bouncing up and down) and full of ideas! If you've seen it you'll know what I mean but I don't wanna spoil it for anyone. Brilliant episode though! :D Fabulous fanfiction fodder. Say _that _five times fast…

Thanks for reading! On to season three..

14.10.14


	4. Only Connect

Disclaimer: S'not mine. I done nicked it, I did.

AN: A little extension to Flight Risk (3.1)

* * *

**Only Connect**

They all had days where they questioned how much good they really did, where catching the culprit felt like no victory at all because the victims were already beyond any help they could render. Justice was cold comfort sometimes, hell, _most_ of the time when it came to murder, and Sharon was newer to this than her Major Crimes colleagues, her skin was not quite so thick after a career in the Force Investigation Division, although for the most part she hid it well. Today she would have given anything for an elephant's hide, because all her maternal empathy felt like a chisel through her heart right now. Then again, judging by Julio's reaction, maybe no amount of experience could inoculate you against some cases…

Lieutenant Provenza, who had been waiting for them outside the ladies room, supported Mrs Logan back to her mother and sister giving Sharon a few minutes to compose herself, at least enough to leave the bathroom. There was a whiff of vomit in the air as she wet her hands under the cold tap and patted her face and neck, breathing deeply. When she looked up, her reflection in the mirror appeared every bit as haunted as she felt.

There was no sign of Rusty when she returned to the squad room where Julio and Amy, who was still in her dress from her date the night before, were boxing up the evidence of their latest case, making room on the murder board for the next victim, Sharon thought despairingly. She drew the blinds in her office and sank into her chair, staring at the crime-scene photos lined up on her desk for a long time before slowly sliding them together and tucking them into a folder as carefully as she might tuck a child into bed. Her mobile pulsed, indicating a missed text or call and she found a message from Rusty saying that he had an errand to run and would see her at home.

Ever more mysterious but a mystery that could wait. Rusty was eighteen now, he had a right to his privacy and Sharon knew she was not the only person he could turn to for advice. Whatever he was hiding, he at least seemed able to confide in Lieutenant Provenza, so she wasn't overly concerned.

'Hey.'

Lieutenant Flynn darkened her doorway, two steaming cups in his hands. He'd waited, as promised.

'Hey,' she responded quietly, sliding some papers out of the way so he could set their coffees down and pull one of the chairs around her desk. They simply coexisted in silence for a long while, slowly draining their cups, their shared sadness a third presence in the room like a low, melancholy chord, unheard but felt down to the marrow. It was enough to just sit together. Besides, anything they might have thought of to say was so obvious as to be redundant: they were so young; they didn't deserve it; it was so pointless, so tragic, so _not fair._

Seemingly out of nowhere, the thought she had been pushing firmly to the back of her mind ever since watching the footage from the dump-site overwhelmed her, bringing up bile, and she swivelled towards the bin, scrabbling to keep from getting any in her hair. Nothing rattled the nerves so deeply as the thought of your own children meeting the same terrible fate as your victims and she had spent all day desperately NOT comparing these kids to Ricky and Emily in order to do her job but, in the end, didn't all the parents go home and hug their kids a little harder after a day like this? Didn't they all thank _god _it had not been their child? Didn't they all shudder at the thought that it ever could have been? No parent should ever have to outlive their children. It was a nightmare, the very worst.

A tissue appeared at her elbow and she took it gratefully, wiping her mouth. Fortunately she hadn't had the time or appetite to eat anything today so it had mostly been coffee. 'I'm sorry,' she apologised, embarrassed.

He shook his head. 'We've all been there. Sometimes our line of work is hard to stomach.'

He wasn't kidding, she thought, opening her top drawer in search of a mint to get the acrid taste out of her mouth.

'Can I make a suggestion?' he asked, leaning forward conspiratorially.

'Of course,' she permitted, though she couldn't think of anything he could possibly say to make her feel any better about the senseless deaths of a four and six year old.

'Call your kids,' he said simply, nodding towards the phone. 'You don't have to tell them anything, it just helps hearing their voices sometimes…'

She wondered if he felt like he had the same recourse. 'Are you going to call Nicole?' she asked.

He took a deep breath, leaning back again. 'Actually I was thinking of asking them all out to dinner tomorrow night,' he said, looking a little surprised at his own daring. She couldn't help smiling.

'You should,' she encouraged. He didn't always need an occasion as an excuse to see his family. For all intents and purposes, he was a grandfather now and she knew he was warming up to the role. He could never get back the years with Nicole but perhaps his daughter might gain some perspective as a new parent and he would get to be the kind of role-model and support to her step-sons that he wished he'd been for her when she was younger. Sharon wanted that for Andy. Family was important.

He nodded, looking a little surer of himself now that he had her approval. 'I will.'

'Good.' She glanced at her watch; almost ten o'clock. She still had her report to write but she could work on it at home, to which end she began gathering her things. Andy got to his feet, picking up their empty cups. 'Thank you,' she said, somehow managing to convey the all the affection and gratitude she felt with those two little words. He smiled a little.

'See you tomorrow,' he said, glancing pointedly at the phone again before he left.

She looked at it too, tapping her fingernail against the tabletop contemplatively. Emily would most probably be in bed with New York three hours ahead but Ricky should still be up. She slipped the files into her briefcase and switched off the lamps before bringing his number up on her mobile. 'Hi, honey,' she said, pulling the door closed behind her and raising a hand in farewell to the others as she headed towards the exit, catching Andy's eye last. 'No no, nothing's wrong, I just… wanted to hear your voice…'

* * *

AN: Okay, so it turns out that extreme impatience can be very motivating when it comes to writing - still four days till episode 3.7 darn it. No romantic ponderings from Shandy in this instalment, it was just too sad an episode for that (although you've got to love Flynn's 'in case you need me'!), hopefully you still liked it though. Thanks for reading, and thanks to all the lovely people leaving feedback on this story - loves you!

16.10.14


	5. Nut Cracking

AN: Season 3, Episode 13. Yes, I skipped half a season - writers block. Something's better than nothing, right? Maybe you'd better not answer that… Anyway, I was inspired to get back to it when Mary McDonnell herself "liked" my comment on her Facebook page last month :D I have proof that Mary McDonnell's real eyes read my words! Sorry, had to brag, I was grinning for a week and I thought you would appreciate it :D :D :D I'm such a fangirl…

**Nut-Cracking**

Sharon was annoyed. It had been almost a year since she _thought_ Andy had agreed to set Nicole straight about the nature of their relationship, so to be blindsided yesterday with questions about office romances left her feeling more than a little put out. Of course she'd never actually _asked_ Andy how it had gone, it had been too awkward to talk about that night after their fallen soufflé of a flirtation, but she never thought for a moment that Nicole still believed they were a couple after all this time.

So, in revenge for him allowing her to be caught off guard, she'd left Andy twisting, clueless, for a full twenty-four hours and when he walked into her office today, closing the door behind him to tell her that he had spoken to Nicole and _thought_ she _might _have the wrong idea about them, compassion was not her first inclination. They both knew full-well that his daughter _did_ have the wrong idea and had done for some time now, no thanks to him. 'Shrill' carried however, so instead of accusing him she asked, in a deceptively even voice, 'So what did you tell her?'

Her irritation was not helped when she deduced from his babbling that he had squandered yet another opportunity to tell Nicole the truth, and it became clear to her that he had no intention of doing anything of the kind, at least not without more insistent encouragement. She was willing to provide that encouragement; both to save Andy's relationship with his daughter and to spare Sharon's blushes.

She stood, discouraging him from getting comfortable as he dipped towards a chair. 'I think that we should have dinner at my place before we go to The Nutcracker tonight,' she suggested (in a tone that implied it was no "suggestion" at all), 'and explain our friendship in a way that will make it easy for Nicole to understand.'

_Honestly_, if you wanted something done right, she silently lectured herself as she walked around the desk, attempting to put an end to the conversation by exiting her office.

Andy conceded that she was probably right, at least that seemed to be the gist of his gibbering, 'But-'

She span back to face him, a little too eager to shoot down whatever lame excuse he was about to come up with next. 'But what?'

'I don't wanna do it,' he shrugged, bashfully.

Being adorable was not going to work like it had the first time; of _course_ he didn't want to do it! She couldn't see Nicole being pleased to find out he'd been lying to her all this time but Sharon wasn't going to be complicit in the deception just to save him from the embarrassment and censure he had coming. She was doing him a favour really, putting a stop to it before it could get any worse.

'Don't worry; I'll help you,' she assured him, smirking as she pictured his defeated expression after she turned, stalking away. Tonight, she was absolutely determined, nobody was going to be left in _any _doubt about the nature of her and Andy's relationship.

* * *

AN: Sorry it's so short! And that I skipped so many episodes. It's just been an age since I've written anything so I thought I'd start small, with a really exciting Shandy episode to get me back in the mood. I'm writing an epilogue for this episode next, which will bring us full-circle (in more ways than one) and hopefully be _much _longer.

Hope the season 4 premiere's awesome in the US! Still no airdate here in the UK, so irritating! Guess I'll have to keep my mind off it by writing fanfiction instead J Is it really conceited that I love the dramatic irony of that last line so much? I'm gonna have fun with the next chapter…

7.6.15


	6. Someone Like Me

AN: Hopefully this chapter makes up for the brevity of the last, it's the longest yet, hoorah. If Someone Like You was SLY, then this chapter is SLiMe. Enjoy! LOL

* * *

**Someone Like Me**

It was fortunate that Sharon had seen The Nutcracker before because she hardly paid any attention to it this time around; she was too busy wondering how she could have been so naïve about the amount of time she and Andy had been spending together lately. She could feel herself blushing every time Rusty or Nicole caught her stealing a glance at Andy, not to mention every time she caught Andy stealing a glimpse back at her. It felt like she was back in high school, for goodness sake! A very warm high school. Would this damned ballet never end?

The intermission hadn't been quite as awkward as the car ride over, with Nicole's husband Steve there to stifle the knowing looks that kept passing between Nicole and Rusty, but Sharon couldn't help feeling hyper-aware of every glance, every word, every touch that passed between her and Andy, as if every eye in the room must notice. Had it really been a year since the last time they'd stood here? Everyone had thought they were a couple that night, too. For a moment there she had even allowed _herself _to imagine it, until Andy appeared to change his mind.

She wouldn't go so far as to say he'd broken her heart but she couldn't pretend it hadn't hurt her, either, and it had taken a few weeks for her to forget what might have been and convince herself that he made a better friend than love-interest. Once she had, she hadn't seen why they couldn't still spend time together after the kiss, they were adults after all; she hadn't realised just how much time that had become until Rusty had spelled it out so neatly for Nicole's benefit though, the little Brutus.

Okay, so she and Andy went to the movies occasionally; who else was she going to go with? Rusty wasn't exactly chomping at the bit. And people had to eat, right? It wasn't preposterous that they went to dinner sometimes, it didn't necessarily _mean _anything. And she had been _given _those tickets to the Japanese-American Museum charity banquet, which was the type of event where they expected you to bring a plus one, which Andy had agreed to go to on condition that she go to a Dodgers game with him in return. It was all very, very _friendly_.

They weren't dating, damn it - they were just going on lots of dates…

She wanted to be aggravated by the whole situation, she _should_ be with everyone making their own assumptions about her and Andy, but the longer she sat with the idea the more the warm feeling in her belly grew. She couldn't help it; the night was charged with possibility, the door had been unlocked and maybe this time they'd have the courage to explore what was on the other side. Not that she had suddenly forgotten the potential problems that could arise from dating a subordinate from her own department, she simply had more data to work with now.

She had never really spent a great deal of time with her colleagues outside of work before, let alone someone she had feelings for, she'd had no experience upon which to base a decision last year (and Andy's change of heart had ended the need for her to make a decision at all). Now when she asked herself those questions again, she found herself reassured that she and Andy were capable of keeping their personal and professional lives separate, and was less afraid of Andy being reassigned because of their relationship. The risk versus gain balance seemed to have shifted since the last time she'd checked; it was exciting but unnerving at the same time and she was being forced to try and get her head around it under what felt like a very bright spotlight.

So much for sparing her own blushes by trying to explain the situation to Nicole, she hadn't had this many hot flushes since the menopause…

Mercifully, she, Andy and Rusty only stayed a little while after the show to congratulate the boys on their performance before saying goodnight to Nicole and Steve. 'So, your first ballet,' said Sharon in the car, twisting round in the passenger seat to look at Rusty. 'What did you think?' She almost missed his answer when she noticed Andy's attention momentarily fall on her legs and she was suddenly very aware of the length, or rather _shortness_, of her dress.

'It wasn't bad,' Rusty grudgingly admitted. 'Those dancers must have to work out a _lot_, I mean, some of those guys were, uh, fit.' Sharon chuckled. Trust a teenager to appreciate a well-defined body in skin-tight clothing. 'At least I'll be able to tell Emily I've actually _seen _a ballet when we meet now.'

Her smile broadened at the thought of having all her kids home in a few weeks. 'Oh it's gonna be great; eggnog and cookies and shopping -'

'Oh my,' Andy chimed, and she rolled her eyes, turning back to watch the Christmas lights twinkling from just about every tree, building and shop front they passed whilst simultaneously trying to surreptitiously tug her hem back down.

'I'm sure it'll be great,' said Rusty encouragingly.

'So long as we don't get dragged into work,' she sighed, probably tempting fate. Her unpredictable work hours had been a source of contention between her and the kids over the years, especially when it came to the holidays, and she so wanted this Christmas to go off without a hitch. She wanted Rusty to experience a family Christmas with all the trimmings and none of the arguments, if that was possible.

'I swear I won't investigate any mystery RVs this year,' Andy joked, as they turned onto Los Felize, and she snorted when she spotted one travelling in the opposite direction.

'That would be a good start,' she agreed, drifting into silence as they neared home and she asked herself if she dared connive a way to speak to Andy alone when he dropped them off. On second thought, it was probably better to wait until she'd had a chance to think things through in private…

'Sooo…' said Rusty shiftily as they stopped outside their apartment building, unbuckling his seatbelt and sliding across the back seat. 'I'm gonna go finish clearing up the dinner plates, so you guys can go for a coffee or say goodnight or whatever,' he suggested, quickly ducking out the door before Sharon had a chance to either protest his presumption or even get her own seatbelt off. 'Goodnight, Lieutenant,' he grinned, shutting the door and speed-walking off.

Her wingman flew away!

She caught Andy's eye and they both burst out laughing. They needed the release after this evening.

'Coffee doesn't sound like such a bad idea,' he offered when the spell had abated. 'I know a place not far from here.'

She lay her temple against the headrest, the merriment fading from her face as she contemplated him. There were questions she wanted answers to but she wasn't sure she wanted to ask them tonight. She did, however, want to get coffee. 'Why not?' she said, smiling softly.

Andy put the car in gear before she had a chance to change her mind.

* * *

The diner was just shy of busy when they arrived and they were not the only ones overdressed for the modest establishment; apparently it was a popular spot to round off an evening with caffeine. A waitress pointed them towards an empty booth near the back, promising to be with them in 'just a tick, y'all'. Andy wasn't sure whether to be excited or scared as he helped Sharon off with her coat and gestured for her to slide onto the U-shaped faux-leather seat before him. Nervous finally won the day, which he figured he had cause to be either way.

'Some night,' he said tentatively, hoping she would take the bait and start the conversation off because he didn't have a clue what else to say. Well, that wasn't exactly true; he knew _what _he wanted to say, he just didn't know how to begin to express it.

He never really let go of the hope of one day turning the lie about them being a couple into a reality but, honestly, earlier today he would have said that goose was an appropriate dish for tonight's dinner since _his _was almost certainly cooked. Of course, he was unutterably relieved that Nicole was still speaking to him but had almost no clue about what had actually happened. What he did know was that Sharon was still sitting here getting coffee with him even after all that. He was hoping that was a good sign.

'It was interesting,' she agreed, smiling and glancing away again. Andy was becoming more and more sure of the new energy between them every time she couldn't hold his gaze like that. Something had changed, some invisible barrier was gone, and he had to wonder if it was his fault that it had ever been there in the first place. He'd regretted being so hasty in retracting their first kiss almost immediately and spent all year wondering what might have happened if he hadn't; suddenly it seemed like fate might be handing him a second chance.

Then again, perhaps it was _better _that it had taken this long: Provenza's reaction to Sharon's divorce had been bad enough when they _weren't _dating, the murder room would have lived up to its name if he'd thought there was a snowball's chance in hell of Andy marrying their Captain. Plus it had given him and Sharon more time to test whether spending more off-duty time together affected their work relationship - which it hadn't, except to occasionally make him nicer, which was better for his blood pressure.

'Did I mention how beautiful you look tonight?' he asked, certainly a fan of the little black dress she was wearing this evening. And her legs. And her hair. And the miles of smiles, which she was doing again.

'Yes. Twice,' she blushed, looking up as the waitress returned.

'Coffee?' he questioned Sharon, who nodded. 'Two coffees,' he confirmed to the pretty blonde, who was doubtlessly an aspiring actress just waitressing till she got her big break.

'Coming right up.'

'So when was the last time you spent Christmas with Ricky and Emily?' he asked, reminded of the upcoming holiday by the abundance of tinsel draped over the sepia-toned photographs littering the walls, and the strains of the Bing Crosby classic just audible over the chatter of the other customers.

'Oh,' she sighed, 'too long. Let's see, four years. Emily was in a production of Swan Lake in New York so Ricky and I decided to join her for a white Christmas. The shopping was _fabulous_; the credit card bill was _not_,' she laughed, shaking her head.

'I'll bet,' he commiserated.

'Do you have any plans with Nicole this year?'

'Uh, yeah,' he answered, unbuttoning his jacket as he leaned back comfortably. 'They're having a party at their place Christmas eve. I would've asked you but I figured you'd be busy with the kids and all.'

'Oh yeah, there's always so much to do when they're home,' she agreed quickly, 'and Rusty wants to visit Sharon over at County, so yeah, busy.'

Just then their coffee arrived and Andy waited for the waitress to move away again before asking, 'How are things going there? With Rusty's mom?'

'Okay, I think,' she said, but her voice was a little higher and less sure than usual. 'She's sticking to the program and passing the drug tests so I guess that's a good thing, and I think Dr Joe helps Rusty to keep a healthy perspective. I guess I just wish he didn't still have to deal with all of this.'

Andy covered her hand with his own on the table, 'It's not just Dr Joe who's helped Rusty; you're a good mom.'

She shrugged modestly. 'Rusty's a good kid; he just never had the opportunity to show it.'

'Until you came along,' he smiled warmly, stroking his thumb over the back of her fingers. She always shrugged off everything she'd done for Rusty but the truth was, the kid had been plain obnoxious in the beginning and determined to get kicked out of any foster placement that was found for him. Sharon had been willing to put up with his incivility and ingratitude long enough to understand the traumatic background from which it stemmed; her patience, honesty and love had slowly disarmed those prickly defence mechanisms to reveal the bright young man they all knew and loved today. She was practically an angel. 'You're like, Supermom. Just look at how you've helped me with Nicole. If it wasn't for you I might not even have gone to her wedding last year and I probably would've regretted it for the rest of my life. Sharon…' he sighed, suddenly bursting with the wonder of her. 'You make me want to be a better person. Six years ago I never could have imagined it, but now what I can't imagine is not being able to spend time with you. I know I gave up too easily last time. I just thought you, you know, deserved better.'

'What changed your mind?' She hadn't intended to ask him tonight but if he was volunteering…

'Well, people make out like the perfect guy is this super rich, successful businessman or doctor type but, you know, I got to thinking, is that really the kind of guy you want? Sure he's got the expensive car and the swanky house and the vacation home in the Hamptons -'

'Sounds awful,' she smiled, stirring her coffee.

He smiled a little but nothing short of a gag could keep him from finishing what he'd started, '- but his work hours are probably going to be at least as bad as ours and since when have you needed anyone to take care of you financially? You don't want to be sitting around at home all day; you're a smart, independent woman. So then I thought, maybe what you need is someone who can make you laugh, someone who understands the job we do, someone who really likes taking you to the movies and sees how kind and funny and beautiful you are. Maybe someone like me _could _actually make you happy after all. Because that's all I want, Sharon, to make you happy.'

He hadn't quite meant to blurt it out so clumsily but it was all true. He never thought he'd have a chance to feel this way again after the breakdown of his marriage, he couldn't stand to let it slip through his fingers again.

'Andy…' she murmured, placing her free hand on top of his and for a moment it felt as if time was standing still and all the noise in the semi-crowded diner had ebbed away. He leaned in closer: no sneak attacks this time, she had time to pull away, to turn him down, but she didn't.

The kiss was brief but tender and they finished their coffee with their fingers entwined on Andy's knee, the conversation drifting back to more mundane subjects. As they strolled back to the car arm in arm, Sharon was sorry the next few weeks wouldn't give them much opportunity to see each other outside of work; she liked this new frisson between them, and wished she had more time to indulge it, but was afraid it would have to wait until the festivities were over.

At least she wasn't worried about Andy losing interest in the meantime, not if everything he'd said was true, and they'd waited this long hadn't they? They didn't need to rush it now. She found herself smiling for the umpteenth time as Andy parked outside her building for the third time that night. 'Well, I guess I'd better go… murder my son,' she grinned, shaking her head.

'Don't be too hard on him…' he said, stealing her hand off her lap and pressing it to his lips with a heart-stopping smile.

'Maybe just a night in the stocks,' she reduced on reflection, freeing herself from her seatbelt.

This kiss was not nearly so brief as the first and Andy took the chance to finally slide his fingers into her soft, auburn curls, as he had imagined doing for so long, but still, the moment did not seem to last nearly long enough and he felt dazed afterwards; still mesmerised by the sensual curve of her mouth, he ran his thumb over her bottom lip and felt her breathing shiver a little at the caress.

'I guess I'll see you at work,' he sighed, brushing a lock of hair off her face, not wanting the night to end.

'I guess so,' she said, reluctantly pulling away to find her purse. She knew she didn't have to ask him not to say anything at work, it was already second nature to avoid talking about their relationships there, where possible.

'I'll walk you in,' he said, getting out to open her door.

'You don't have to do that,' she protested lamely, as she took his hand to climb out, although the truth was, she really liked that he was a gentleman; it was a large part of what made him so sweet.

He smiled and her stomach swooped at the look he gave her as he offered her his arm again. 'Call me old-fashioned but in my day you walked a lady to her door…'

* * *

AN: It's incredibly weird writing Xmas in June! I have no idea what kind of a job I've done here, I'm no good at judging (or writing) romance; I'm just afraid they're completely out of character all of a sudden - eep! But it makes me smile so, hopefully, it made you smile too. Otherwise - oops?

Now you could say that this would be the perfect place to end this story since it's come full circle from SLY, from one Nutcracker and goodnight kiss to another, and I considered it, but decided to take some advice from Winston instead:

"Now this is not the end, it is not even the beginning of the end, but it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning."

Now I just really need season 4 to start over here! Thanks for reading, I'd love to hear your thoughts! :D

Aphelionite

14.06.15


End file.
